It seems that the why, a question that usually befuddles us during our earlier years and then dissipates—either because of our profession or the obscurities of everyday life—is a more important question than the how. The how is a question that usually comes to the surface when we enter the profession as neophytes or when the first nightmarish difficulties of repetitiveness arise.
But the why is not a question that an artist should stop asking, even when their professional name has been established. Especially in such an uncertain profession like ours, you may be “established” now… but then—into obscurity you go.
So, the question is: Why am I doing this?
Why am I making myself go through such an arduous life?
Why did I want to become an actor in the first place?
Well, it’s most certainly not for fame or money (and I am not being snobbish about life or fame; they are not lofty goals, mind you). But even if these were your aspirations in the beginning, that’s okay. A year in the profession usually grounds us so hard that the fall resembles the Hindenburg disaster of 1937.
Funnily enough, actors are never swayed by such falls and burns. There seems to be an inner magical conviction—some sort of “BUT I NEED TO” or “THERE IS NOTHING ELSE FOR ME TO DO”—that drives actors to carry on. It allows them to bravely and without complaint participate in taunting jobs like waiting tables or driving for Uber, just to get the chance to work on their first—but in harsh reality, their second—job: that of being an actor.
The phrase “Don’t give up your day job” sounds demeaning in every other endeavor. But in acting, it’s a survival issue—not a “you’re not good at this, bro,” but a “if you want to keep doing this, you have to find a way to survive.”
So, the why—Why am I doing this?—is very, very, VERY important for your mindset. You have to keep reminding yourself of the why. And you have to stop thinking in calendar-like ways.
“In five years…”
“In two years…”
“When I’m 30…”
Do I need to remind you of wonderful examples of late bloomers, like Olivia Colman? She arrived too late, too old, and it was certainly not her looks that got her in, but her talent, work ethic, and an astonishing volume of grit and luck. And look at her now.
I dare say she is one of the greatest actresses of her time.
But this amazing actress had to go through life’s hoops and loops like every other artist without a blood relation to a Hollywood mogul. She made beds for a living in scrappy hotel rooms. She endured other excruciating occupations before she secured a stable job as an actress.
Her motto, stemming from her unstoppable why and her ethics—even while cleaning hotel rooms—was: “I will be the best at what I do, no matter what I do.” That is what kept her going. And that’s what rubbed off on her profession.
Olivia never focused on how she would do it or how she would make it, but on the why she was doing this job and why she had to do whatever was needed, no matter how she felt about it. She also didn’t care about the when. Her timetable had only one date on it, and her calendar was one huge blank page that read:
“WHENEVER.”
Love and respect,
KF
